


Worlds apart

by Drago



Category: Ylvis
Genre: AU, Boyband, I suck at titles, Incest, M/M, No children no wives, Rimming, Rock Band, Sibling Incest, Unsafe Sex, Vegard is a bit of a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drago/pseuds/Drago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bård is in a boyband, Vegard does rock. They don't really know each other anymore, even though they are brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worlds apart

**Author's Note:**

> So I got a message on tumblr:  
>  _Okay this might be presumptious of me but could I perhaps interest you in two prompts for Ylvis? “Teach me how to play?” & “No one needs to know.”. I just really like how you write :)_
> 
> I merged 2 prompts into 1, but I hope it's okay because it's a bit longer and even has some plot. So, it's for you, lovely Anon!

Bård was eight when his parents divorced. He doesn’t remember any fights, his parents never shouted at each other, so rather than traumatic, the divorce had been confusing. Why are they splitting if everything is fine? But then again he was eight, what could he know. What he really was concerned about at that time was the fact that his older brother was moving out with their father. They were quite close for kids who were that different. But Vegard chose to stay with their dad while Bård couldn’t imagine living without their mom. Vegard promised to call, and he did. At the beginning. Then something must have changed because he would call only once in a while, and after some time he stopped calling altogether. So Bård started to forget that he once had an older brother to whom he looked up to. When he was twelve his mom told him that his father moved to the US, but Bård didn’t care anymore, since neither his dad nor Vegard bothered to tell him themselves. He entertained the idea that maybe his mother had a say in it, but deep down he knew that his mom would never do that. 

Bård is fourteen when he gets noticed by a music producer. He is in a school musical because his teacher thought it would motivate him. It mostly motivates him to have sex with the girl who plays the main female role. It also makes him discover that he probably doesn’t like vaginas as much as he is supposed to. The musical is a huge mess with half of the cast forgetting their lines or singing out of tune because of the stress. Bård isn’t stressed, mostly because he can’t be bothered to care about the whole thing. He gets scouted by a guy who looks like a pedo, but apparently is well known in the entertainment world. His mother isn’t too happy about it, but Bård has no idea what to do with his life, so he thinks that it’s not a bad way to live when they put him in skinny jeans, dye his hair just a shade lighter and make him a leading vocalist, and a front face, of a new boyband called A capella. He learns to dance, sing better and play the piano because apparently they want him to be a bit of a romantic, but it’s too late for a violin. He is 99% sure they are going to fail, but he is pleasantly surprised when Norway goes absolutely _crazy_ for them. Sweden, Denmark and even Finland follow. The sudden fame, which comes at the tender age of fifteen, is quite overwhelming, but who could say no to the crazy amount of money they earn? Not Bård, that’s for sure.   
Their ‘music’ hardly qualifies as music in his opinion, it’s generic pop with bland lyrics, but people dig it, so he keeps his mouth shut and smiles when asked about it. By the age of seventeen he has a small fortune, and his mom is so proud of him that Bård thinks he will never tell anyone how sick he is of it. The teenage girls want him to love them, the teenage boys want to fuck him to be able to brag about it. And then there are adult men who google his pictures to jerk off to them, imagining that they are fucking his adolescent body. The other band members tell him that he should be pleased, but he wants to throw up when older men touch his arms and hands during fan meetings. He tried having sex with a forty-something guy once, and he felt like a trophy rather than a partner. Never again. 

He is waiting for the music awards performance, already wearing make-up and uncomfortable, albeit sexy, clothes. It feels like everyone is able to see his dick, but he is too afraid of an answer to ask.   
Five minutes before the show he is pacing backstage, more than ready for the event to be over. If one more up-and-coming plastic popstar asks to take a picture with him and then gropes his ass, he is going to kill someone. Busy with the murderous thoughts he runs into a dark haired, slightly scruffy guy. He bounces back and opens his mouth to scold the guy, but the man’s intense stare intimidates him.  
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing.”  
Bård’s lips open in outrage, he is getting ready to start a rant, but the guy brushes his fingers against his jaw and adds, “They are waiting for you, doll.”  
He has to go, but he swears that if he ever sees that guy again he will tell him what he thinks about being called ‘pretty’ or a ‘doll’.  
The performance goes okay, there isn’t much you can fuck up if you practiced the same routine over and over and over again until you were dancing and singing in your sleep. They win four awards, but Bård doesn’t attend the after party, choosing to go home instead. As always, his mom is waiting, and he wonders what she will do when one day he decides to stay.   
He wakes up late the following day, allowing himself to rest after a busy period of work without any fun. When he comes down for lunch his father and the scruffy guy from the previous night are sitting at the table while his mother is setting the table. He hasn’t thought about Vegard for such a long time that he didn’t recognize him. His older brother looks so different. Grown up.  
“Hey baby, we have guests,” his mother notices him first. She is smiling, but the skin around her eyes seems tight with tension.   
“Yeah.”  
“Congrats on your awards,” Vegard says, his voice deep and eyes dark. Maybe Bård wasn’t the only one who didn’t recognize his brother. At least it’s less awkward on his part.   
Their parents tell them to go for a walk, and Bård tries to remember whether it happened in the past, whether they were going to start arguing once the kids are out of the house. He doesn’t feel like going out, but he does anyway, allowing them a moment of privacy.   
Vegard doesn’t speak until they are quite far away from the house, “Have you heard of the Squad?”  
“It’s a band, isn’t it?”  
“It’s my band.”  
Bård didn’t know about it. He’s heard the name, some of his friends mentioned listening to it once or twice, but he never got interested enough to give them a try. It explains Vegard’s presence at the ceremony.  
“Dad likes to think that we are far more popular than we really are in the US, but the truth is that the most of our fans are based in Norway and Sweden. So I’m moving back.”  
“Cool, I guess.”  
“I’m buying a house. You should come over when I’m all settled.”  
Bård grunts. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. He feels uncomfortable, like he isn’t talking to his brother but some random, hot guy. Vegard has a Dad, and he has a Mom, but it’s like neither of them has both parents. It’s weird. Bård almost feels shy even though Vegard is only three years older. It’s probably because he is seventeen, it won’t matter once he is twenty himself.   
“You didn’t recognize me yesterday.”  
It’s not really a question, but he shakes his head anyway. No, he didn’t.  
“I didn’t either,” there is a slight pause before Vegard adds, “but I stand by what I said, you are very pretty.”  
“I’m your brother,” Bård’s cheeks must be burning, he can feel it.  
“Yes. You are my pretty little baby brother.”

Talking to his dad is even more difficult. His father tries to explain why he stopped calling, but Bård refuses to listen to the excuses. Because that’s all they are, excuses. He understands being busy, but even the busiest person can find ten minutes for a call once in a while. Now they are complete strangers, and when Vegard invites him over to the new house he makes sure that their dad won’t be there at the time, helping with painting the walls or whatever.   
Once they get over the initial discomfort of getting used to each other again, they work quite well together. Vegard is serious, but he can be a bit goofy as well. They find the same things amusing which is a nice change from people who usually tell Bård that his sense of humour is a bit peculiar for their taste.   
His brother has a whole room just for the guitars, but instead of asking him to show what he can do, Bård googles it at home. It’s pretty impressive, so the next time Vegard invites him over, he goes straight to the guitar room, picks up the simple black classical guitar and asks, “Teach me how to play?” Vegard’s eyes gleam with mirth when he hears the request, and Bård thinks that they might be brothers again, one day.   
It turns out that playing the guitar is far easier than playing the piano, and Vegard comments lightly on how he didn’t really expect much from a boyband guy. It leads to their first fight not because Bård is particularly proud of what he does, but because he won’t let other people mock his achievements. Later Vegard admits that he did it only because for some reason he wanted to see Bård angry. He also admits that his band, although supposed to play rock, is as much of a product as A capella is. They are like two peas in a pod, really, only one of them is darker and looks like a Turk. 

Vegard is nice, but he can be kind of intense. He likes to sit a bit too close for comfort, often touches the people he is talking to, and sometimes Bård catches him stare at his lips or collarbones when he is wearing one of a low cut shirts his stylist loves to buy in bulk.   
Bård buys himself a guitar so he can practice at home, but he still insists on Vegard teaching him rather than hiring a real teacher. It’s more fun this way, especially when Vegard mocks him for choosing ‘Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door’ as a first song to learn.   
“Girls are going to love you even more now? Gonna impress them with your finger skills?”  
“I, um, I like boys.”  
“You like boys, huh? Keep playing,” the older man adds when Bård stops after the confession.  
“What about you? What do you like?”  
“I like girls,” Vegard’s breath tickles his neck, and then he can feel his brother’s whole body behind him, barely touching, “I like boys. I like people.”  
Bård is about to jokingly comment on how many options Vegard has, but a warm, firm hand on his hip stops him.   
“Keep playing.” Bård’s fingers stumble on the fingerboard, but he tries to concentrate on it instead of thinking too hard about what’s his brother doing.   
“I’m assuming you’ve been with a man before. Pity,” the older man’s hand moves to the top of his thigh and massages it, fingers caressing the inner thigh. Bård’s heart stops and then starts beating ten times faster when he feels Vegard’s whole body touch his. His brother is hard, Bård can feel the thick length pressing against the small of his back, but instead of being grossed out his own cock starts to harden as well.  
“You are so hot baby,” his brother is kneading both of his thighs now, forcefully spreading them open, making him feel vulnerable.   
“We are brothers,” it sounds weak even to his own ears. What kind of brothers are they anyway? They share blood and genes, but when he looks at Vegard he doesn’t feel the brotherly bond. Not with how dark Vegard’s curls are or how warm his eyes seem to be all the time. In the end it’s mostly about the length of time they spent apart.   
“It’s okay, no one needs to know. Just you and me,” with that, Vegard’s hands move to Bård’s crotch and the younger man automatically closes his legs, trapping the nimble fingers between his thighs.   
“I should go,” but he does nothing to leave, just moans quietly when the older man unzips his jeans and slips fingers inside of them, under the briefs.  
“You should stay,” his brother purrs, and Bård feels powerless against him. His body refuses to cooperate. He is ashamed of how easily he gives in to the seduction, but he also can’t help but wonder whether it hasn’t started all the way back, during the awards ceremony. The lingering touches, the staring, it makes sense now that Vegard’s hands are skillfully undressing him until he is completely naked.   
The guitar long forgotten, Vegard forces him to lie on the bed, pale against the emerald green sheets, open for whatever the older man wants to do to him. His brother smiles and then bows to press a sweet little kiss against the head of Bård’s cock before he moves even further, pressing his nose against the boy’s perineum and going lower, finally reaching the small opening.   
“Have you ever been rimmed?” the warm breath hits his hole, and Bård shivers in fear and anticipation. That’s answer enough for Vegard, whose tongue breaches him without any warning, ripping a shout out of him. It tickles a bit, but it mostly makes him want to spread his legs like a whore for his brother to enjoy. He’s had sex before, but it’s never been this intimate. The need to touch is too much, so he starts petting Vegard’s head and then tugs at the dark curls when the older man starts lapping at his rim.   
He can feel his body slowly relaxing, stretching and opening around the slick intrusion so much that he barely notices when two of the older man’s fingers slide inside of him. He definitely notices when they rub against his prostate, making his cock strain and leak precome. The pressure is almost too much, and when the orgasm comes it feels like it’s been punched out of him. A loud, breathy noise reaches his ears, it takes him few seconds to realize that he is the one making it while his brother still massages and sucks him. He has to push him away, overstimulation proving to be too much.  
“I want to get you dirty,” Vegard rasps out. He is kneeling, furiously jerking off his swollen cock. Bård imagines it. Imagines thick, warm cum leaking out of his ass, making a mess of him, marking him. He wants it more than anything, so he nods and reaches for the older man’s dick, wanting to touch the soft skin. It seems massive in his hand, not especially long, but much fatter than what he is used to. He can’t jerk it comfortably from this position, so he gives it few lazy tugs before Vegard pours lube on it, and Bård’s cock twitches in anticipation.   
When the older man finally lies between his legs and starts to slowly sink into his stretched body Bård suddenly realizes that they haven’t even kissed yet. He isn’t big on kissing, but there is something about Vegard’s lips that draws him in. He starts with an Eskimo kiss just to make him laugh, and then presses his lips against Vegard’s slightly chapped ones. The dark scruff is a novelty, none of his previous partners had it, but he quickly forgets about it once the other man’s tongue explores him again.   
He gasps, their breaths mingling, when his brother’s hips start moving with purpose, slamming into him. Bård feels so full, spread thin by Vegard’s cock. It’s almost painful, too much. He is aware that he is babbling into his brother’s lips, whining quietly while the cock fucks him open. Bård tries to concentrate on his partner, on the shaking arms and heavy, manly scent. He licks away the sweat collecting on Vegard’s chest, closes his teeth around one of the small nipples, biting it playfully and then with more force when the older man rams into him like he wants to break Bård into pieces, reshape him.   
Maybe he does, Bård thinks he is already ruined for other men. Nothing will ever feel as good as his brother’s fat dick, not when it can hit him with so much precision and enough force to turn him into a babbling mess. He pushes at the strong arms, back arching when Vegard rubs his dick. He needs three more jerks before he is coming between their stomachs. Vegard doesn’t pause or slow down, if anything, he starts fucking him even faster, chasing his own orgasm.   
He wants to rest now, but his eyes snap open when strong fingers close around his neck and squeeze. It’s just enough pressure to make breathing difficult, but not enough to make it impossible. It’s also enough to tip Vegard over, few more sharp thrusts and he spills into brother’s used hole. He lies down, careful not to pull out just yet, covering Bård’s body with his own. He is quite heavy, but Bård finds it comforting.   
“Mine,” Vegard murmurs into the young man’s swollen lips. “You are mine now.”


End file.
